red his horse. They thundered on, wreathed in powder
smoke and eddying dust. The gate was opened for them; they surged
through at full speed, and not a hide had been so much as scratched!

But the men in the corn-field were not so lucky. They heard the
volleys; they cared not a whit for numbers, and seeing little they
bolted through the tall stalks for the battle, in order to help their
comrades. The horsemen had thudded on; out from the timber into the
road the Indians, one hundred, two hundred, swarmed and met the footmen
with the tomahawk.

The Indians' guns were empty; the thirty Long Knives knew that their
own safety lay in the threat of powder and ball. An Indian will think
twice before charging a loaded rifle with a tomahawk. There was small
chance to reach the fort gate; all the intervening space swarmed with
the raging enemy. The thirty dived back into the corn-field. It was
desperate hide-and-seek among the nodding stalks, while the Bryant
garrison gazed helplessly.

Most of the thirty got away--made a running fight of it, from the corn,
and from tree trunks and cane clumps. Six were killed or wounded. But
Simon Girty himself was almost bagged. That would have been a
victory--and it did indeed put a stop to the fracas. Like any Indian
he was hot in chase of a young Kentuckian; at last his quarry turned,
leveled on him and fired. Down went Simon Girty, knowing now that he
had mistaken his man. The gun had been loaded!

Girty killed! Nothing could have spread greater joy. No! He was up
again. The bullet had struck a piece of leather in his shot-pouch and
had only bruised him! Pshaw! The young Kentuckian had not dared to
pause and finish his job, and ran on until he might reload.

The fall of Simon Girty had created alarm. All the Indians who saw,
stopped. When they learned the truth, the pursuit had slackened; they
let the few Long Knives go and applied themselves to the siege of the
station.

That was now a harder task, for the garrison had been increased by the
sixteen horsemen. At sunset the chiefs grew discouraged. They had
lost many warriors; reinforcements had arrived, more would be on the
way; they wished to draw off and try elsewhere.

Simon Girty addressed them.

"I will talk to the Long Knives. I will make their hearts soft. You
have seen that they cannot kill me--I turn their bullets. I will turn
their hearts also."

On hands and knees he crawled along to a large